Late night dessert
by Miss-Nocturna
Summary: Thorin's company are visiting Bilbo to bribe him to become their burglar for the unexpected journey ahead to Erebor, but Bilbo seems to think Thorin has an ulterior motive from the little hints he's seen.
Three days and nights with Thorin's company had all but sent Bilbo over the edge to a pit of pure insanity. The Dwarves had eaten everything that didn't have a beating heart and made a muck of his cozy little Hobbit hole which so shortly ago was obsessively immaculate according to Bilbo's standards. When he wasn't running back and forth to the little market down the road or into his own personal garden to keep his hungry guests satisfied he was on his hands and knees scrubbing dirt and filth that had been dropped by the rapacious mongrels he allowed into his home.

As he stared down at the wooden floors of the hallway, butt wiggling actively back and forth with the force of his extreme will to clean and shine by sponge and bucket on sore hands and knees - he couldn't help but feel as if a pair of eyes were upon him from the den. His curly mop of sweat soaked hair fell down and plastered against his eyebrows. Bilbo raised himself up on both knees and wiped his forehead with the back of one hand - catching the eye of Thorin who took quick to pretend he was never gazing at all. His big, meaty fingers slowly slid up to the armrest of the chair he was sitting in from what seemed to be his inner lap.

"Was he...?" Bilbo began asking himself mentally before cutting himself off.

"I can't prepare supper varnished in this filth." Bilbo told himself as he looked at his sweat and grime stained clothing. "Those dwarves will be the death of me."

Bilbo clapped his hands to his sides, feeling accomplished, admiring the view of his familiarly clean home before walking down the hallway, pausing at the bathroom door. Thunderstruck, he remembers what he saw - or assumed he saw - back in the den moments ago. Bilbo closes his eyes and shakes his head before pushing the bathroom door open and entering.

"What are we having for Supper?" Bombur asked no sooner than Bilbo left the bathroom from his bath.

Taken aback, eyebrows furrowed while looking at the plump, carrot-topped Dwarf Bilbo replies "I-I..I've just spent over an hour cleaning up three full days of what appears to be the aftermath of a stampede from my wood floors. Please..give me a moment" the Hobbit plead.

"Leave Master Baggins alone. He has much to consider already." Thorin interceded.

"Aye! I was only just asking, young lad, as we're all quite content with the idea of full bellies before our departure to Erabor!

Half ignoring Bombur, confused and slightly pink at the cheeks with his observation earlier, Bilbo didn't know the appropriate amount of eye contact to make with Thorin to gesture his thanks. He nodded - the edge of his mouth lightly twitching for a second before turning and passing them both down the hall and into the kitchen.

Bilbo stood for a good moment in the pantry, clueless of what he would prepare for that many of guests. His trips to the market and into his own garden could only bring so much food and he was not used to cooking for more hungry bellies than his own.

Bilbo stroked the underside of his chin with his fingers in wonder before finally concluding on a large cauldron of stew with nice loaves of bread to pair it with. Grabbing the ingredients he began his slave work.

As preparations were completed, not much was left but to wait for the stew to cook and bread to bake. Without much thought Bilbo grabs a bottle of wine and a glass from the pantry, scuffling his feet along the wooden floors in a slumberous manner. The sound of storytelling and laughter and mischief carried through the halls from the den as the Dwarves and Wizard buried their innermost fears of what lies ahead. Bilbo sat down at the kitchen table and popped the cork of his wine bottle, filling his glass generously. Minutes passed as the Hobbit nonchalantly sipped at his Red, many thoughts whirring and clashing in his head. Just feet away at the edge of the table was the contract he was doubtful he would ever agree to sign. He eyeballed it for a moment before clasping it in between his fingers, pulling it to him, trying to read what the fluently written handwriting had to say, but his mind began to wander. A slight warmth enveloped him as the wine finally began taking its course. He smiled to himself through closed eyelids as he no longer found interest in the contract and pushed it aside. He was more interested in the courage his buzz gave him in deciphering the reaction arising in his trousers at the thought of what he believed he saw the dwarf Lord doing earlier in the armchair. Bilbo did not know why it effected him so much...but he liked it!

As the end of the day drew nearer, Spring at the fingertips of The Shire, the remainder of daylight turned cloudy with the approach of a storm. The leaves of the Party Tree turned over and the pond nearby began to ripple with wind elevation.

Bilbo's buzz steadied as he began to pace himself, his stomach too mistrustful to allow him much wine consumption on an empty stomach and anxious thoughts of the dwarf with the long, dark locks and blue eyes. With a twitch of the nose and snap back into reality, he noticed the lingering scent of stew just feet away from him dangling in a large stew pot from the fireplace crane. Apparently the others had too..

"Is it ready?" Bofur inquired - leading in front of the others as their noses carried them into the kitchen.

Before Bilbo had a chance to hide the wine bottle on the table he was caught.

"By my beard! You've been drinking without us all this time?" asks Bofur.

The little Hobbit rolls his eyes.

Civil mood decreasing steadily, Bilbo scrapes at the bottom of the stew pot to get his serving after the rest of the company were given their portion; a few coming back for seconds and thirds before he even got his first. Sitting down at the only available spot at the table, directly across from Thorin, he does his best to keep his eyes on his side of the table as he buttered his bread. The hair on the back of his neck raises as he knows he is being watched.

Uncertain if it was the effect of the tannin in the wine or a second bout of a confusing state of arousal rising from his depths, Bilbo's cheeks flush as he slowly raises his eyes to meet Thorin's. They pierce his own and he knows exactly what the majestic dwarf is trying to tell him.

The only other soul aware of this is Gandalf, who sits quietly puffing on his pipe - mouth slightly curved in thought and observation. The rest of the company were too busy carrying on with their attempts of overpowering one another with manliness and competing with various obnoxious bodily noises. Surely the fine bottle of wine Bofur nabbed from Bilbo's pantry has not motivated this.

Bilbo's arousal grows more preponderant as the seconds tick on - a maelstrom of thoughts and fantasies carry on as his eyes continue to be glued to the dwarf who he hopes yearns for him just as much. He goes to reach for his handkerchief on the table, intending to mask the erection firming steadily in his trousers but is startled and interrupted by the loud boom of thunder just outside the window..all falling quiet around the table.

Buried under the hill in the back of the hobbit hole was Bilbo's bedroom. Though there was no round window in his bedroom to see the world outside, the muffled rumbles of thunder carried on throughout the home singing to him.

Pipe resting against his lips, tonguing at it - Bilbo stared at the wall opposite his bed. He was mixed in between thoughts of lasting hunger, a declining buzz and deep emotional arousal. He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply on his pipe weed, Thorin's eyes of languish and lust etched into his memory. Allowing the heavy smoke to satisfy his anxiety, the blood of his body travelled south to solidify his cock once more.

The vapor escaped his lungs as he exhaled slowly, along with a very distinguishable rumble of his stomach - a cry for dessert he was robbed of by other greedy stomachs. All else was quiet in his warm home shy of the hardly audible remnants of the storm and snores from other rooms of the house. Opening and slipping out of the door to his bedroom, Bilbo notices a thin line of light resting on the floor outside the guest bedroom just down the hall. The door to the room Thorin was to be staying in.

His heart leapt into his throat as he inched in that direction to go to the pantry. Arms raised to his sides for balance, Bilbo tiptoed as much as his furry, oversized feet would allow as he ridiculed himself mentally for having to tiptoe inside of his own hobbit hole.

...

...

"Master Baggins..?" a voice called from behind the crack in the door.

Heartbeat skyrocketing, Bilbo paused in his tracks in front of the door to the guest bedroom at the sound of his name being addressed. A few seconds passed before he pressed on the slightly ajar door, popping his head in.

"My apologies, Thorin. Did I wake you?" Bilbo asked, knowing the answer already.

"Come in." Thorin urged, ignoring the Hobbit's prior question.

Bilbo pushed the door open the rest of the way, slipping in. Closing it behind him he rested his backside against it, enthralled by the imagery before his eyes.

Thorin sat in an armchair by the blazing fireplace. The cloak that he had been wearing since arrival was removed - his upper chest exposed above a thin and worn shirt and trousers. Extremely long hair speckled with random streaks of silver lulled messily around his head and shoulders, which Bilbo so deeply felt the desire to pull his fingers through. Too buried in his thoughts and fantasies as his eyes carried from top to bottom, Bilbo hadn't noticed that Thorin was doing the same.

"Come. Sit, Master Baggins.." the long haired dwarf commanded in his soft, cool voice.

Bilbo swallowed nervously as he took a seat in the armchair opposite Thorin's - feeling childish with nervousness as if though 30 years had been shaved of his life.

"Please! Call me Bilbo." he asked. "I am no Master."

"Then may I be yours?" Thorin inquired. His blue eyes piercing into Bilbo's. An orange silhouette danced across the side of his face from the fire just a few feet away. Bilbo had never seen anyone more magnificent in all of his 50 years of life.

"Yes." The words escaped Bilbo. "Though I've never done this before...w-w-with a man that is ...master."

Thorin leaned forward in his chair, his dark locks falling in front of his shoulders. The dancing flames of the fireplace could be seen in his eyes as he replied "Nor have I."

Both Bilbo and Thorin stood up slowly, clearly just as nervous as the other. Stepping forward the dwarf comes within inches of Bilbo. Thorin raises his hand and caresses the Hobbit's jaw, causing Bilbo to close his eyes as just the slightest touch made him tremble within. At the touch of Thorin's masculine but tender stroke, Bilbo clutches his new master's hair in his hands and let's it flow through his fingers - surprisingly like silk against his grasp. He pulls it to his nose and closes his eyes once more - the smell of pure brute reaches his nostrils before he lets it fall back to Thorin's shoulders.

"Earlier..." Bilbo started, wondering if he should continue what he was about to ask.

Thorin blushed, already knowing full and well what Bilbo was preparing to inquire.

"What were you doing?" He inquired "I-in the armchair, I mean."

"Admiring." He answered. "But I'm finished admiring from a distance. Go to the bed..." Thorin demanded coolly.

The Hobbit does as he's told, growing nervous with each step, before pausing next to the antique four-poster for next instruction.

Thorin remains glued at his spot in front of the fire. Observing. Planning.

"Take off your clothes."

Bilbo did as he was told, first unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a pale but slim upper body. The only hair visible was was speckled across his chest and a trail beneath his belly button in a neat, thin line. Next, unbuttoning his trousers and pulling them down along with his undergarment, Bilbo freed his erecting cock; undoubtedly surprising in proportion for a Hobbit's stature.

Thorin watched, mouth slightly agape, before realizing he should be taking action instead of just standing there.

He unfastened his belt and threw it aside with a thunk as it hit the wooden floors, slowly walking toward the hobbit as he removed the remainder of what he wore.

Standing before Bilbo was the most beautiful man he had ever laid eyes upon - flawed with scars and old battle wounds from a time the innocent and sheltered Hobbit had only ever witnessed in dreams and tales. Master Thorin was tired of playing games. He had had his eyes on Bilbo since he first opened the door to his hobbit hole, reluctantly inviting the dwarf in following the rest of the company.

"On the bed." Thorin meant business.

Bilbo obeyed once more, scooting back until his head met the soft feather pillow propped up against the headboard. Thorin climbed atop him shortly after, coming face to face with the handsome, homely hobbit he wanted so badly. His dark and silver hair enveloped Bilbo as he looked down, shaking it so that it all fell to one side of his head.

Thorin dove down and pressed Bilbo's mouth against his, tracing a line with his tongue across the newly submissive hobbit's lips, urging him to open them. Bilbo obliged, intertwining the dwarf's tongue with his, evoking a reaction from both of their cocks to grow stiffer by the second. Thorin felt Bilbo's erection pressing up against his stomach. It throbbed.

"Where were you going when I called your name?" Thorin asked as he pulled back, breathing deeply and focusing into Bilbo's eyes.

"For a late night dessert." Bilbo replied.

Thorin paused briefly, gazing down at the hobbit just inches below him before taking action. He got to his knees, straddling Bilbo with one knee on each side of the small hobbit's torso.

"I've your dessert right here.." The dwarf implied.

Thorin's cock was thick at the shaft with a nice, round head and Bilbo, tired of holding back with nervousness, didn't hesitate this time to take action. He raised up and allowed Thorin to slide between his lips, salivating and lubricating as he took each broad inch into his small mouth. The dwarf moaned behind his lips as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes while Bilbo gradually increased speed and depth on Thorin's plump dick; making him wonder if Bilbo was being truthful when he'd said he was new to this. Bilbo took the dwarf's balls into his hand and gently massaged them, causing Thorin to grab a handful of his curly hair.

"AH! Stop, Bilbo! Stop or I will cum."

Bilbo obeyed, grudgingly - wanting to taste Thorin's warm nectar, but he thought Thorin would have other plans. He was right. Bilbo looked up to Thorin, wide cock still filling his mouth and awaited further instruction.

"Lie down and roll over! Now!" Thorin was breathlessly on the edge.

The hobbit did as commanded, stone hard at the thought of the preceding accomplishment of his novice attempt, but more eager for Thorin to fill every inch of him up completely. He settled on his hands and knees, facing the warm fire, feet from the bed. Thorin took his position behind, wanting to press the head of his cock against Bilbo's ass and was minutes shy of exploding. He reached behind him and pulled a small bottle of slightly colored liquid from beneath the pillow.

He loomed over the small figure, observing Bilbo's smooth, small ass and the backside of his stone hardness as he applied the warm mystery liquid up and down his shaft, secretly tugging while the hobbit waited to be taken. Thorin once more squeezed the bottle of liquid into his hand before tossing it aside. He reached around and grabbed Bilbo's cock - who cried out as the dwarf stroked slowly up and down, lightly twisting his hand as he did. Thorin slid his cock in between his submissive's ass cheeks before fully sliding in him, enveloped in a bath of tightness and warmth as both released a moan of pure bliss unapologetically, uncaring to the other guests of the house who may hear.

Thrust of the cock and pump of the hand in sync, it took all of the strength Thorin could conjure to keep from cumming and filling the hobbit's ass after many years of celibacy and not knowing what he was searching for until it surprised him. He hunched down and blanketed Bilbo with his body as he increased propulsion, nibbling the back of his shoulder and neck. The hobbit's cock firmed in his grasp and Thorin knew what that meant.

"Are you-" Thorin breathed.

"YES!" Bilbo cut him off, knowing what he was preparing to ask.

Thorin synchronized the speed that he stroke of Bilbo's cock with the thrusts that he served at the hobbit's backside, feeling his muscles tighten all around him. Both at once the hobbit and his master peaked, freeing their sweet release of pure ecstasy and rapture - and audibly so. The hobbit's cum shot onto the bedsheets as Thorin's released warmly into the hobbit. Both cocks were pulsating with pure euphoria.

Thorin raised up to allow Bilbo fresh air, slowly and uneagerly pulling his still half hard erection from inside, free of the hobbit's comforting warmth, both trying to catch their breath. He collapsed weakly onto the pillow behind him as Bilbo rolled over with a satisfied smile across his face.

"Mmm! That. Was. Incredible." Thorin managed to breathe as he pulled Bilbo to his chest and kissed his salty lips.

Bilbo looked into Thorin's eyes, which were filled with expressions of satisfaction, relaxation and pure glory. He took the dwarf's lips to his one last time before pulling away.

"...thanks for the dessert, master!" Bilbo smiled.


End file.
